Can counsel, and give comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to paffion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter ftrong madness with a filken thread,
Charm ach with air, and agony with words.
No, No; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of forrow:
But no man's virtue, nor fufficiency,
To be fo moral, when he shall endure
The like himself: therefore give me no counsel;
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
Much Ado about Nothing, A. 5. Sc. I.
DEER WOUNDED.
To-day my Lord of Amiens, and myself,
Did fteal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor fequeftred ftag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languifh; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth fuch groans,
That their discharge did ftretch his leathern coat
Almoft to bursting, and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nofe
In piteous chafe; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremeft verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.
As You Like It, A. 2. Sc. 1.
But whate'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,
With nothing fhall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
King Richard II. A. 5. Sc. 5.
DOUBT.
The wound of peace is furety,
Surety fecure but modeft doubt is called
The beacon of the wife; the tent that searches
To th' bottom of the worst.
Troilus and Creffida, A. 3. Sc. 3.
Your words have took fuch pains, as if they laboured
To bring manflaughter into form, fet quarrelling
Upon the head of Valour; which, indeed,
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When fects and factions were but newly born:
He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer
The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
His outfides; to wear them like his raiment carelessly,
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.
-If wrongs be evils, and enforce us, kill,
What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill!
Timon of Athens, A. 3. Sc. 5.
FAIRIES EMPLOYMENT.
The honey-bags fteal from the humble bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed and to arife :
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his fleeping eyes.
A Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 3. Sc. 1.
FEAR OF DEATH.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ;
To lie in cold obftruction, and to rot;
This fenfible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted fpirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to refide
In thrilling regions of thick-ribb'd ice ;
To be imprifon'd in the viewlefs winds,
And blown with reftlefs violence round about
The pendant world; or to be worfe than worst
Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling: 'tis too horrible!
The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
That age, ach, penury, imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradife
To what we fear of death.
Meafure for Measure, A. 3. Sc. 1.
FORTITUDE.
When moft ftruck home, being gentle-wounded, crave
I dare do all that may become a man ;
Who dares do more, is none.
Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words ftill in fouleft letters?
She either gives a stomach and no food;
Such are the poor in health or else a feaft,
And takes away the ftomach; "fuch the rich
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.
Henry IV. Part II. A. 4. Sc. 4.
FUNERAL ORATION.
With faireft flowers,
Whilft fummer lafts, and I live here, Fidele,
I'll fweeten thy fad grave; thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azure hare bell, like thy veins, no nor
The leaf of Eglantine, whom not to flander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath; the ruddock would
With charitable bill, (O bill fore shaming
Thofe rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!) bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd mofs befides, when flowers are none
To winter-ground thy corfe,
Which buys admittance, oft it doth; yea, makes
Diana's rangers, false themselves, yield up
Their deer to th' ftand o' th' ftealer: and 'tis gold,
Which makes the true man kill'd, and faves the thief;
Nay, fometimes, hangs both thief and true man. What
Can it not do, and undo? Cymbeline, A, 2. Sc. 4.
GREATNESS.
'Tis certain, Greatness once fall'n out with Fortune,
Muft fall out with men too: What the decline is,
He fhall as foon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Shew not their mealy wings but to the summer;
And not a man, for being fimply man,
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